


Under Wraps

by Twyd



Series: Under Wraps [1]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Advice, Alley Blow Jobs, Attraction, Awkward Flirting, Awkwardness, Banter, Bars and Pubs, Blow Jobs, Brothers, Confusion, Crushes, Denial, Disguise, Dorkiness, Dorks, Flirting, Hiding, M/M, Masturbation, On the Run, Porn with Feelings, Relationship Advice, Scheming, Secret Crush, Secret Identity, Semi-Public Sex, Sexism, Slash, Teasing, Yakuza, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 00:06:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12493948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: There is a girl with a beautiful face sitting at the bar.Not what you think.





	Under Wraps

There is a girl with a beautiful face sitting at the bar. Not many can see how beautiful she is, as she is wearing a scarf that comes up to her jaw, and her long hair covers both shoulders, framing her face. Not many can see that she is not actually a girl at all. At least, Izaya hopes so.

He keeps his body language muted, touching the wig self-consciously. _This isn’t so bad,_ he tells himself. It will be over soon.

He nearly falls off his stool however when it is Shizuo who serves him. Since when did Shizuo work here?? The idiot must have got himself fired again.

“What can I get you?”

“Er, sweet martini, please.”

He says it in a low, slightly breathy voice, so Shizuo has to lean in to hear him. He thankfully doesn’t ask Izaya to repeat himself, thank God. The informant pays, nodding his thanks, and breathes out as Shizuo goes away, apparently none the wiser.

Just his luck. Of all the bars he could have picked…

Still, maybe it could be a good thing. Shizuo wouldn’t stand for any funny business if the unsavoury type came in. He may end up inadvertently protecting Izaya. The thought makes the informant smile.

He texts Masaomi to see if they are still watching his apartment. Tries to avoid clock-watching. A few more hours and the thugs would be out of the country as planned, and they would probably consider Izaya not worth the hassle of coming back for. A nuisance, yes, someone they’d like to fuck up dearly, but not a real threat. A few more hours and this would be over, and he could burn these clothes. Why the hell did girls wear such uncomfortable things?

He takes a sip of his drink, wincing at the sweetness of it.

Shizuo, unfortunately, chose this moment to watch him.

“Is your drink OK?” he asks cautiously.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Izaya says cheerily in his girl voice. He takes another sip to prove it. “I’m just, er, not really a drinker.”

“Oh,” he says. Izaya thinks he’s about to go away again when he says, “That’s good to hear. I’m not great at martinis. Today's my first day.”

“Oh really?” Izaya says nervously, caving in on himself slightly to avoid Shizuo’s gaze. “How’s it going?”

“It’s good. I think. I worked in a bar before, but I wasn’t very good at it. This place seems a little quieter, though.”

 _Too quiet,_ Izaya thinks. If it were busier, Shizuo would leave him the hell alone.

“Are you from here?” Shizuo asks now. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“Um, no, I’m from - Kanto. Just visiting.”

He takes another sip of his drink. Shizuo thankfully has to go and serve another customer. Izaya bends over his phone when he’s gone, pulling up the scarf to hide more of his blushing face.

_What the hell is wrong with me? Why can’t I just tell him to get lost? I don’t have any trouble being mean to him when I’m me._

But he knows what the problem is. When he’s himself, Shizuo won’t so much as look at him without a scowl on his face. Now he is smiling, courteous, almost nervous, as if he’s thinking through everything he says before he says it. It's almost cute.

_Heiwajima Shizuo is chatting me up. What fresh hell._

Izaya types made up words on his phone furiously, trying to look busy, but Shizuo doesn’t seem to take the hint when he comes back.

“Are you cold?” He is smiling in a way that would make girls crumble, if Izaya were a girl. “You look like an eskimo. Do you want me to turn the AC down?”

“No, it’s fine. I’ve just - I’ve been sick lately,” he says, hoping this will put Shizuo off.

“Ah. I never got your name.”

“Er – Kiyomi.”

“Kiyomi. That’s a nice name. I’m Shizuo.”

“Nice to meet you, Shizuo.”

He avoids the barman’s eyes, but Shizuo just seems to think he’s shy.

“How long are you here for?”

“Oh, I’m leaving tonight,” he says quickly.

Shizuo deflates visibly .

“Oh. That’s a shame. Anything special planned?”

“Nope, not really, just, y’know, hanging out.”

“Uh huh.”

Izaya realises then that this is the most stupid thing he could have said and wants to shoot himself.

“Do you want to have dinner with me? I finish in a couple of hours, and I know this great sushi place we could go to. Have you heard of Russia Sushi? I know it sounds super weird, but it’s actually OK.”

“Oh - I actually went to Russia Sushi this afternoon.”

“Oh. We could go somewhere else.”

“Um, actually I’m – seeing someone.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry,” Shizui says, stepping back as if he’s insulted him, and he looks so upset Izaya almost wants to apologise. “I’m really sorry. I’ll leave you in peace.”

“It’s OK!” Izaya says. He struggles to think of something else to say. “Girl down there is pretty cute.”

Shizuo gives him a funny look as he says this, not checking out the girl he’d nodded at. On hindsight, girls probably didn’t point out other girls to men.

“Um, that’s OK. Believe it or not, I don’t always creep on girls in bars.”

“It’s OK, it wasn’t creepy at all.”

Shizuo smiles at him gratefully.

“Let me get you another martini.”

“Sake, please." If he has to swallow another drop of that sweet stuff he thinks he might throw up. "Dry."

Shizuo’s eyebrows raise.

“Yeah? OK. It’s on the house. I insist,” he says, when Izaya tries to argue. He gives Izaya a final self-deprecating smile before leaving him alone.

Izaya sits there with his phone, trying to process what had happened.

 _If I were a girl I’d be a puddle on the floor by now_ , he thinks, ignoring the fact that his heart is hammering.

Shizuo leaves him alone for the rest of the night. Izaya watches him out of the corner of his eye and, sure enough, he doesn’t talk to any other girls. Some of the life has gone out of his shoulders, visibly disappointed.

 _You massive, adorable dork_ , Izaya thinks. _How has someone not snapped you up yet._

He shakes his head. He has far more important things to think about. He texts Masaomi again, watching the time.

A little later, someone he’d been dreading comes into the bar. What the hell was he doing on this side of town? Surely they weren’t combing the city for him?

The man ignores him, fortunately. A few other men eye him like he’s a piece of meat on their way out, even though his dress isn’t particularly tight. It’s not the first time it has happened. Izaya has to resist the urge to do something that will almost definitely draw attention to himself. It’s disgusting. He decides that every girl everywhere needs to be taught how to karate-chop a man in the balls.

Shizuo is back in earshot, collecting their abandoned glasses.

“This place is fucking disgusting,” Izaya blurts.

Shizuo seems to understand, grimacing in agreement.

“I know, but there are worse. Believe me.”

“I can imagine.” Izaya watches the man who has just come in out of the corner of his eye, praying that _he_ won’t decide to check him out. If they end up making eye contact, Izaya may as well just shoot himself. He digs a pair of Raybans out of his purse and puts them on.

Shizuo smiles at him as he does.

“You wear shades indoors too, huh.”

“When I want people to leave me alone.”

Shizuo’s smile fades.

“Not you,” Izaya says quickly. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I’m just…avoiding someone.”

Shizuo’s eyes swivel to the other man. He is apparently sharper than he looks.

“I should get going,” Izaya says, sensing this is about to get complicated. He downs the rest of his drink.

Shizuo blinks at him a bit.

“Are you OK? I mean, if you’re having trouble with…do you want me to walk you anywhere? I’m not being pushy, I just- ”

“I’ll be just fine. Really. Thanks for the drink.”

He smiles at Shizuo from behind the scarf and leaves. He can feel Shizuo watching him as he goes, but thankfully he doesn’t trip.

He gulps in the fresh air once he’s outside, going round the side of the building to lean against the wall, dumping his oversized purse at his feet.

He’ll wait for the man to leave, he thinks, to make sure he goes in the opposite direction. Who knows, maybe he could even double bluff him and go back in the bar. Shizuo did say he wasn’t working the whole night.

It starts to get cold. He’s dying to get his trademark jacket out of the purse, but he knows this will be stupid.

He straightens hopefully as the door opens, but it is only Shizuo who rounds the corner with a cigarette in his mouth, lighter in hand. He blinks stupidly when he sees Izaya.

“Oh, hi, I was just – having a cigarette,” Izaya says stupidly. A really long fucking cigarette that is now nowhere in sight.

“Oh,” Shizuo says. “I guess you don’t want another one?”

“No, thanks.”

Shizuo takes the cigarette out of his own mouth, fidgeting foolishly.

“Look, do you want me to ask that guy to leave?” he says eventually. “I can just make something up.”

“Oh, that’s OK. I don’t want any trouble.”

Shizuo raises his eyebrows.

“So you’re just going to stand out here in the cold?”

“No, no, I'm going to go – over there.” He gestures vaguely across the street.

Shizuo nods seriously.

“Go to the one on the right of that. It normally has a lot of girls who go in after work for cocktails, so it’s a bit more - I mean, not that I notice that kind of thing. I’m not being sexist, I just – “

“It’s OK,” Izaya interrupts to save him. “I know what you meant.”

Shizuo smiles gratefully.

 “Were you going to have that cigarette?” Izaya says uncomfortably, avoiding his eye.

Shizuo looks at the lighter in his hand like he’d forgotten it was there.

“I don’t really feel like it now. Um, I’m sorry about before.”

“Mm?”

“You said you’re seeing someone?”

“Oh, that,” he says, remembering. “Don’t worry about that. It happens.”

“Yeah, I bet it does,” Shizuo says, a little sadly. He glances at Izaya, clearly gearing himself up for something. “Can I ask you something?” He is blushing again. “ _Are_ you actually seeing someone, or were you just trying to blow me off? It’s OK if you were. I know it’s none of my business, but I just wanted to know.”

“I…it doesn’t really matter, Shizuo.”

His shoulders sag. “I guess that in itself is an answer.”

“And I’m leaving tonight, anyway.”

“Yeah. You said.”

He looks at Izaya as he says this. Izaya can see what he’s about to do, heart jumping a beat as he realises, but he makes no move to stop him.

 Shizuo steps forward and kisses him, cupping his face between the scarf and sunglasses, the only part of him that’s exposed. Izaya rests his hands on his shoulders, forming a sort of wall between their chests so Shizuo can’t feel what’s not there, as Shizuo circles his arms around him, deepening the kiss. Izaya has to dig his heels in when Shizuo tries to pull him closer, keeping a certain distance between them from the waist down. Shizuo changes tack and tries to pull the scarf loose instead, and Izaya grabs his hand to stop him, keeping his Adam’s apple safely covered.

“Sorry,” Shizuo whispers.

“It’s OK,” Izaya says. “But let’s not get too…grabby.”

“I won’t, I swear.” He thumbs the corner of Izaya’s lip. “I’ve messed up your lipstick,” he says. “Sorry about that.”

“That’s OK. I didn’t like it much anyway.”

He catches Shizuo’s hand when it moves towards his wig.

“Man, you are really shy,” Shizuo says, chuckling.

“I’m not, I’m just…a massive prude.”

“Are you,” Shizuo says, like he doesn’t believe a word of it.

Izaya winds his arms round his neck and kisses him again, pulling him further into the alley and away from the streetlights. He takes off his sunglasses once they are in darkness.

Shizuo kisses his forehead appreciatively.

“You smell nice,” he sighs.

He slides his hands up Izaya’s waist again.

“Remember, ah, don’t get grabby.”

“Sorry,” Shizuo breathes. “It’s just that – you’re really pretty. I can’t help myself.”

“Pretty? You can barely see me,” Izaya says, amused.

“Yeah but, I can just tell. There’s something about you.”

“Maybe I remind you of someone.”

“No, definitely not.”

“It might not be someone you necessarily like,” Izaya presses. “Just someone.”

Shizuo thinks for a moment, long enough to make Izaya’s heart pound. Then he says,

“Nah, there’s no-one.”

Izaya gives up and kisses him again. Finds himself getting carried away and pushes Shizuo into the wall, taking care to keep the distance between their groins. Shizuo gives a little laugh.

“Wow, you’re stronger than you look.”

“Mm-hm.”

He pins Shizuo’s hands against the wall when he tries to touch him again.

“Oh come on, this isn’t fair.”

Izaya licks his lips.

“I don’t play fair.”

He kisses harder, forgetting that he’s supposed to be a woman, a _stranger_ , forgetting everything except that this is _Shizuo_ he’s kissing, Shizuo that’s kissing him back, and dying to touch him outside a shitty bar in downtown Ikebukuro.

“Shizuo,” Izaya breathes. He puts his hand over Shizuo’s crotch, unsurprised to find him hard. “I want to do something for you, but you have to promise not to touch me, OK?”

“Oh, come on,” Shizuo groans. “Please.”

“You don’t need to touch me for this to feel good.”

“But I want to.”

“Shizuo.” Izaya kisses him again, firmly enough to show him who’s in charge. “No touching. OK?”

Shizuo groans again, which Izaya takes as a yes.

He steps back and kneels, taking Shizuo out of his pants with shaking hands. His own dick is so hard he can barely remember that he’s supposed to be a girl, that six men want to kill him and one of them is on the other side of the wall. All he cares about is that this is Shizuo in front of him, exposed and hard and practically begging.

He takes Shizuo in his mouth, discreetly palming his own dick in his desperation for friction. He tries to concentrate on keeping quiet, as he’s sure the grunts that escape his own mouth are definitely not girly, but Shizuo is too out of it to notice. He is good on his word too, not touching so much as a lock of the wig, hands balled into fists at his sides.

Shizuo groans all of a sudden, shuddering into Izaya’s mouth, who covers Shizuo’s fists with his hands and holds on, relaxing his throat as he swallows. He can feel Shizuo shaking. _He_ is shaking. Shizuo’s fists loosen and turn to meet Izaya's palms, interlocking their fingers. He helps Izaya to his feet, letting go only to discreetly put himself away.

Their eyes have adjusted to the dark, Izaya notices, so he fishes his sunglasses out of his waistband and puts them back on.

“You look like a spy,” Shizuo says, smiling.

“Maybe I am a spy.”

“Hm. I hope you don’t get caught.”

“Me too.”

Shizuo tries to put a hand in his hair again, and Izaya catches it and holds it to his mouth instead.

“What are you if you’re not a spy?” Shizuo persists. “Are you a model? You’re pretty tall.”

“I’m wearing heels,” he lies.

Izaya’s phone buzzes from his purse somewhere by his ankles. Probably Masaomi. He’s surely in the clear by now. Shizuo looks at him sadly as if he understands.

 “…still no touching?”

“That’s right.” Izaya  gives him a final sweet little kiss before stepping away.

Shizuo lets him go sadly.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving."

“It’s OK, I’m actually not that nice,” Izaya says, pulling the scarf up around his mouth again. It’s quite cosy. “It’ll be like I was never here.” He stands there awkwardly, wanting to call Masaomi. “Hadn’t you better go back inside? They’ll be wondering where you are.”

“Can I hug you?”

Izaya hesitates. How can he resist?

He steps into Shizuo’s arms, closing his eyes and leaning into his warmth. His brain blocks out everything else, framing this moment forever.

He is so lost that he doesn’t notice the significance of the hand in his hair, until he feels something dislodge. He stiffens, but it is too late, Shizuo is already pulling off the wig. He steps back, and Shizuo’s hand shoots out and whips the scarf off as well, exposing him.

“… _IZAYA???”_

“It’s not what you think, Shizuo, it’s not what you think.” Izaya backs away as he burbles, and for the first time in his life he is actually afraid of Shizuo. “I swear, this wasn’t some big plan to manipulate you. I had to dress like this to hide from some people, and I swear I didn’t know you work here. I tried to put you off when you spoke to me but you weren’t really getting it, and I didn’t want to be mean to you because I wanted to keep a low profile…”

He goes on and on, speaking more rapidly, and Shizuo still doesn’t get mad. The barman just stares at him as if he still can’t believe it, looking almost comical with the wig still in his hand, too stunned to speak.

“Why did you do it?” he interrupts eventually.

“I told you, I was hiding from someone. I tried to put you off.”

“Well, you didn’t try very fucking hard.”

Shizuo turns on his heel and goes back inside, letting the wig drop to the ground.

Izaya breathes out as the door slams itself shut behind him. He is shaking again, and not in a good way.

He delves into his purse and, sure enough, Masaomi has messaged him. The thugs are gone. He still can’t go home just in case, but at least he can get changed.

He does so there and then in the alley, dragging his clothes out of his over-sized purse, the adrenaline tasting like blood in his mouth.

He shoves the feminine clothes into the trash once he’s done, scrubbing at his lips with his wrist to remove any lingering make-up. He’s about done when Shizuo comes back out, apparently done for the night.

The barman frowns at the undisguised sight of Izaya, who curses himself for not disappearing more quickly. Thugs weren’t his only problem in this town.

“Why did you do that?” Shizuo says again.

“I already told you.”

“Not that, not the dressing up,” Shizuo says. “Why did you do…that?” he gestures to the ground vaguely where Izaya had been kneeling.

Izaya just stares at him helplessly. He’s so flustered, he’s not even sure he’ll do well with his knives.

“I’m sorry, OK?”

“I’m not asking you to say you’re sorry, I’m asking you to tell me why.”

Izaya tries to wait him out, but it becomes clear Shizuo isn’t going anywhere without an answer. He is standing in the mouth of the alley, blocking any chance of escape.

“...I wanted to,” Izaya admits. “I’m sorry.”

He backs up for safety, like this would help him, and waits.

After a moment he hears Shizuo sigh.

“You’re standing in garbage.”

He blinks and looks down.

“Come out of there,” Shizuo says, annoyed. “I’m not mad. At least, I’m not that mad. It’s not the end of the world but, Jesus, it’s still the most fucked up thing you’ve ever done. That I know of.”

Izaya fidgets miserably.

Shizuo is apparently not done.

“Do you, uh, have a thing for…”

“No!” Izaya snaps, exasperated. “I do not have a thing for dressing up in women’s clothing and going down on guys in alleyways, OK? This is the first time I’ve ever dressed like this, and if I ever have to do it again I think I’ll just let someone kill me.”

“But how did it even happen?” Shizuo says, frowning. “I mean, did you plan it all out, or was it just like, ‘oh, hey, I know what’ll throw them off, I’ll dress up as a girl?’ ”

“A bit of both, if you must know.” Izaya says hotly. “Does it matter?”

“Did you wear lingerie?”

“What? Why are you asking me that?” He rolls his eyes. “I forgot, OK? And you can’t wear boxers under dresses, they’re too tight. So I didn’t wear anything.”

“Really?”

Izaya gets uncomfortable with the way Shizuo is looking at him.

“Look Shizuo, can we please just forget about this? Some _real_ woman will walk into the bar one day, and you’ll laugh when you tell her about this.”

Shizuo keeps staring at him.

“ _You’re_ real,” he says. “And you did that. You did that because you wanted to.”

Izaya feels a fresh little wave of desire go through him. It may be his imagination, but Shizuo is looking at him like he’d like to push him back against the wall and fuck him for real.

“Did you come?” he asks now.

“This is getting too weird, Shizuo.”

“ _This_ is what’s getting weird?” Shizuo shakes his head. “Whatever. You owe me, flea. Big time.”

He should have seen this coming.

“Fine, what do you want? Should I stay out of Ikebukuro for a month? Two months?”

“I want to have dinner with you.”

Izaya stares at him like he’s told him to put the dress back on.

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious.” Shizuo says. “Look…I meant what I said before, I don’t normally come on to anyone just like that. There was something about you. And you can’t say you don’t like me too, or you wouldn’t have done what you did.”

“I _don’t_ like you, Shizuo, I don’t.”

“Prove it.”

“How am I supposed to prove it?”

Shizuo steps forward without warning and kisses him, hard enough to almost knock him over, only he holds him properly this time, pressing up against his body, sliding a hand into his hair. He keeps hold of Izaya when he draws away, looking amused.

“You could have not kissed back, for a start.”

Izaya shoves him off as hard as he can.

“Fuck you.”

“I think we should at least have dinner first.”

Izaya laughs, half bitter, half hysterical.

“You think you’re so funny, Shizu-chan. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Come on. Don’t pretend you’re not gonna go home and jerk off about this.”

Izaya glares at him.

“Stop it, Shizuo. You’re just projecting this imaginary woman on me because you’re disappointed.”

“No I’m not. This is actually sort of better.”

“How the hell is this _better_?”

“This woman was going to disappear forever and wouldn’t let me touch her. I felt like an animal. And you...you know. You’re here, and you’re not afraid of me, and you…” Shizuo trails off, finally looking embarrassed again.

“I don’t know if I will be staying here after this,” Izaya mutters under his breath. “Can I go now?”

“When are we having dinner?”

“You’re not serious?”

“After the night you’ve had, _this_ is what you’re upset about? I’m asking to have dinner with you as _you_ , by the way, dresses optional. Just so we’re clear.”

“Oh, God.” Izaya puts his head in his hands. “This is it, isn’t it. I’m finally getting what I deserve for everything I’ve done.”

 This seems to shut Shizuo up for a moment.

“Hey, I’m just asking. You don’t have to do anything if it’s that fucking terrible.”

Izaya lifts his head suspiciously.

“This isn’t some big plan to get back at me?”

“No. That’s more your game. I just…” he shrugs. “I just want dinner. I promise I won’t rip on you too much. How bad could it be?”

Izaya considers.

“So you get a blow job _and_ dinner? How is that fair?”

“I’ll pay for the dinner.”

Izaya rolls his eyes.

“Is that a yes?”

“Fine. So long as you swear not to tell anyone about what’s happened. Can I go now?”

“Sure. Have a nice time jerking off over me.”

Izaya looks almost capable of throwing a trashcan himself.

“Fuck you, Shizu-chan.”

-

Masaomi is waiting outside his apartment, looking cold and miserable. Izaya almost stalks right past him.

“Oh, Masaomi, I almost forgot about you. Here you go. I need you to go away now, OK? I’m in a very bad mood.”

Masaomi wisely doesn’t question him, taking the cash and bolting.

Izaya goes up to his apartment, no longer caring about being wary. Part of him would almost relish the opportunity for a fight. He has a lot of energy. 

He wishes Shizuo had chased him home so he could have got some of this tension out. He wishes Shizuo had done anything but what he did, even if it had been more painful.

He showers and changes his clothes, getting into bed. Closes his eyes, letting the softness of his sheets soothe him. Swallows as he tries to ignores what nags him.

“I’m not jerking off,” he says out loud.

But then, it’s reverse psychology. Shizuo expects him not to jerk off because of what he said, so Izaya can do the opposite. He slides out of his shorts, his restraint falling away as he feels around his drawer for lube.

He can do whatever he wants in the privacy of his own room and his own head, where he can get Shizuo to fuck him without making him feel bad about it.

-

The next morning, Shizuo texts him with a time and a place, and Izaya panics. He can’t understand Shizuo’s motive, other than to obviously mock him relentlessly, or for some other form of revenge, but why would he want to do that over dinner? Izaya's heart races as if he had been running, not sleeping. He fumbles for his phone.

“Shizuo, I’m sorry. I can’t have dinner.”

“…oh. That’s OK. Don’t worry about it.”

“Really?” Izaya says hopefully. “You changed your mind too?”

“No, but I sort of figured that was what it was when I saw who was calling.”

“Oh. I wasn’t trying to mess you around, I just- “

“I know, I get it. You were all flustered when you agreed. It makes sense that you’d wake up and just freak out.”

“I’m not freaking out.”

“OK.”

“I’m not freaking out, Shizuo.”

“Well, OK, whatever’s going through your head, it’s fine. Call me if you change your mind.”

Shizuo sighs and throws his phone aside, pulling the pillows back over his head. Part of him had expected Izaya to balk, but he had expected him to do it last night. He thought he was in the clear by the time morning had come.

He’s apparently achieved the one thing he never thought he’d have to worry about; Izaya was afraid of him. He doesn’t get out of bed for a long time.

-

Namie is already at her computer when Izaya comes downstairs. She takes no notice of him whatsoever. He jumps on the chair at the other desk to get her attention.

“Namie.”

“What,” she growls.

“Why would someone want to have dinner with me?”

“No-one wants to have dinner with you, Izaya,” she says, without looking up.

“But if someone did. If someone asked me,” he persists.

“To manipulate you. To poison you.”

“OK,” he says, nodding. “What else?”

She casts a grudging eye over him.

“You’re quite good looking, I suppose.”

“What else?”

“And you’re smart. That helps.”

“What else?”

She throws him an annoyed look.

“That should be enough, Izaya. You’d be surprised how hard it is these days to find someone who’s smart, let alone smart _and_ good-looking.”

“But is that it?” he persists. “Take Seiji, for example. I’m sure you think he’s smart and good looking, but if someone asked you why you want to be with him, those wouldn’t be the first things that come to mind, right?”

Her shoulders tense at the mention of Seiji, but soften again when he doesn’t mock her.

“That’s very different,” she says. “You’re assuming this person loves or at least has affection for you, rather than, say, just wanting to get in your pants.”

“Wouldn’t they just try that anyway, if that was all they wanted?”

“Drinks or dinner is usually a courtesy,” she says cryptically.

“We already did drinks. Sort of.”

“Still.” She considers for a moment. “If it’s someone who knows you, things like your family and your money might play a part too."

“Hmm. I don’t think so. That’s superficial again. It’s not a very superficial person.”

She actually swivels her chair to look at him.

“You’re not being hypothetical, are you. Someone’s actually asked you out. If you tell me who it is, I can probably give you a better idea of their motive.”

“That’s OK. I’m not going.”

She wrinkles her nose in disgust, turning back to her screen.

“You said no just because you couldn’t analyse their motive? Unbelievable. You are such a coward.”

“Hey, if I’m that awful I’ve probably done them a favour, no?”

“That should be their decision to make. And you never know, it might make you slightly less awful. It’s not like you could get any worse.”

He always likes coming to Namie for advice.

-

Izaya is avoiding him. Shizuo supposes he should be grateful.

He sees Izaya once, at the subway, completely absorbed in his phone. Instead of approaching the flea, Shizuo tries to take the opportunity to be objective. Is it the unreal girl he can’t get out of his head, or is it Izaya as he sees him now?

Watching Izaya, Shizuo sees some similarity to the girl in the bar who had attracted him. Fragile but capable, smart, well dressed. Then the train comes and Izaya disappears into the crowd.

Shizuo needs to speak to someone. Someone who wouldn’t overreact.

-

Kasuka listens over their ice-cream with his usual bland expression, not so much as raising his eyebrows at the worst parts.

“I don’t think he was messing with you,” his brother says eventually. “I think he would have been dressed up for the reasons he gave, and then he saw an opportunity and he went for it.”

“So why won’t he have dinner with me?”

Kasuka shrugs.

“Nerves. Denial. Freaking out. Why don’t you ask him again?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Well…I don’t want to harass him. And I already sort of did. I told him to call me if he changes his mind.”

“No-one does that. Ask him again.”

“What, just call him? He’s not been around so much. I think he's avoiding me”

“Yes. Or even text him. It’s less intrusive, and it’ll give him space to think.”

“I hate texting.”

“OK, but just remember that he’s had some recovery time now, so when you do speak he’ll probably try and be as cruel as possible to prove himself.”

“He won’t. He admitted he owes me, and he doesn’t want me to tell anyone.”

“As cruel as he can get away with, then.”

Shizuo frowns into his bowl. He’s always had a love/hate relationship with the cold, hard logic of his brother.

“Do you think it’d be weird if we went out?” he asks.

“No.”

“Do you think other people would?”

“Probably.” Kasuka glances at him. “But people already think you’re different, so I don’t know why you’d worry about something like that.”

Shizuo considers this. 

“Izaya said I’m projecting this made-up woman onto him. Do you think that’s true?”

“I don’t know. Only you can know that. Do you think about this made-up woman?”

“No. I mean, not really. I think about what happened and try to put the two of them together. I can’t get my head around it. It…” He feels himself blushing hotly even with the ice-cream slipping down his throat. “It was really good, Kasuka. I know it’s weird, but kissing him felt really good. I don’t even know what drew me to him in the first place. He wasn’t in this knock-out dress or anything like that. And I never talk to girls, you know I don’t.”

Kasuka is nodding like all of this makes perfect sense.

“Ask him again,” he says. “The worst thing he can do is say no or ignore you, and he’s already done both of those things.”

Shizuo sighs. He hates asking his brother for advice.

-

He calls Izaya when Kasuka has left. If he leaves it he knows he’ll only put it off. And he has to call – he can’t text when he doesn’t really know what he wants to say.

To his surprise, Izaya actually picks up.

“Izaya-kun,” he says, to buy time. “Haven’t seen you around much. You scared of me now?”

“I’ve been around, Shizu-chan,” he says sardonically, like nothing has changed. “I’ve been in Ikebukuro three times this week. You’ve just been missing me.”

“Oh. OK. Look, er, do you want to have dinner? I’m not gonna get mad or tease you or anything.”

There’s a silence on the other end of the line. Shizuo almost thinks Izaya has hung up, when a voice comes from right behind him.

“Sure. Let’s have dinner.”

Shizuo snaps around in his seat.

“How long have you been there?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Izaya says, a shit-eating grin all over his face. “Where do you want to eat?”


End file.
